How endearing and pathetic that our dog lies outside the bathroom door whimpering while Bri showers. How can he not know that after 14 years Bri’s gonna come back out and cater to the dog’s every need? For fuck’s sake, he’s memorized every sound associated with a pre-food event that’s ever happened. If he’s out in the yard and you open a seven year old can of creamed corn, he’ll hobble up the stairs on his busted, old bones in hopes of slicing his tongue on the lid, if he can muster up enough oomph to knock the trash can over. As I finished this rant, Bri came out of the bathroom and said, “Where’s my Elvee?” Am I missing an emotion gene that I don’t find this the sweetest thing ever? Codependency is so annoying.
(Found in drafts – June 2018)
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